Second First Kiss
by CapturetheFinnick
Summary: A Malec Drabble, Alec's POV post-COHF, starting his relationship for the second time, with all the bad parts and the good. Just some of Alec's thoughts, semi-angsty, mostly fluffy.
It took a while to get used to it. It took a while for him to be able to look at Magnus' face, to look into his eyes, and not feel sorrow, not a stab of pain. It took a while to remind himself they were together again, there was no need for anguish. And there was a distance between them that hadn't been there before, and that Alec definitely had not been expecting. He had been expecting to take Magnus back into his arms, and to fit together, to be the same again. But instead there had been this gap, like a small wind between them, like two repelling magnets that weren't quite able to compress the distance. It wasn't as if he didn't love him. It wasn't as if he wasn't happy that they were reunited. But the feeling of joy and love had been tainted slightly, had been mixed with pain and fear and longing. And there was a tension in the room that hadn't been there before, running along the grooves of the table, through the stitches of the sofa. (That had most likely been 'borrowed' from pottery barn.) Something was different.

It was a new beginning.

And Alec thought about that first beginning, the shaking hands over the brass knocker, hesitating, one, two, three. No. Yes? Could he do it? Could he go in? Could he ask? He thought about the turmoil of decisions, blowing off the dust from the old book of what he knew and trying to write his own. Decide not only what was right but what was right _for him._ For the first time Alec had truly thought about himself, not his position in relation to Jace, not watching Max from the corner of his eye, not covering for Izzy. Not even considering his weaknesses and strengths in battle but his own self; his self away from the fight, away from the family, away from the shadow world itself. It was a whole different ballgame. He remembered the scrunching feeling in his stomach, as if it was a small ball of paper, thrown away, draft two syndrome of a book which would never be written. It was a similar feeling.

And standing in the corner of Magnus' apartment, an apartment he knew so well, an apartment which, despite the ever changing furniture, felt familiar and had even once felt at home, he felt all the pain of a new beginning but also all the excitement, all of the sparks. And Magnus came from the kitchen, his hair spiked up and a small sprinkle of golden glitter under his eyelids. He wore a loose white t-shirt and black skinny jeans with a silk red and orange gown hung loosely over his shoulders. He was so attractive. Alec felt it all over again. The slight unease, the nerves but also his heart, beating threefold through his rugged black top. Except this time it was different, better, because underneath he had re-assurance, beneath it all was a voice, a slideshow, an urge in his veins screaming of Magnus' kindness, of his care, of his love, flashing through moments spent. Underneath was a bond, a tie between the two of them. It was all very overwhelming.

"Alexander, my love, are you okay?"

 _Alexander._ The word was enough to bring a smile to his lips and a weakness to his kneecaps. _Alexander._ Holy hell did he love this man.

"Perfectly fine" Alec said, walking towards Magnus, cupping his hand around the back of his head, and kissing him, his fingers knotting through his matte black hair. And it was the same and yet so different. Because here it was, the second first kiss, and yet, Magnus was the one standing there, surprised, his eyes widening into the kiss, Magnus the one taken aback, not Alec. And Alec had forgotten how much he had grown as a person, how much he had discovered, how a few tattered pieces of himself had been sown together during his relationship. And not by Magnus. By himself. By his own happiness, by his own strength. Alec smiled into the kiss. And so maybe it was daunting, and maybe it was scary, to be nineteen and in love all over again, to go back to re-ignite an old fire, to go back to an old relationship, to try to stitch together an old love. But then again, maybe the fire had never properly died down, and Alec had love, _the strongest force in the world._ Old Alec would have rolled his eyes, would have scoffed beneath his breath. But not new Alec. Alec was ready. Alec was strong.


End file.
